


ダイスキ

by ruruka



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hickies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruruka/pseuds/ruruka





	ダイスキ

_pay attention to me_

it's what his lips grasp at, tongue the fainest flick of target lost.  _attention-_ it's what, where he fails the brass, his eyes instead cast in the flavor of midnight. an up down, guilty, and a seat taken close. but he's waiting, his  _he_ whom belongs nowhere else but beneath his straddle. he's waiting for those chaste kisses that bruise his arrogance, and kisses all too often are called chaste when unmeant. no exception, and these kisses are not the virtuous puckers of lips met after  _i do,_ rather the blush of a puff-cheeked playgrounder with fingers clamping the nose and a hierarchy to build. makoto kisses are long and hot and all he wants to thieve out of you, and the return of them is _take it take it take it all i give you all that i have and all that i am,_ and it's just so criminal the way he knows it in a shiver of hips and a bite to the throat.

attention is what he's conjured in his white-out over sainthood. but it's just- and here's the bit to save the other's dignity -it's just  _difficult_ (yeah,  _difficult_ ) to ignore a nude man placed in the fat of the lap. togami (he's that  _he_ who needn't find himself neath any other man's nudeness- oh,  _nudity,_ but it's just so fucking hard to  _think_ right with a nude ma- right, point taken-) takes the flesh of waist in his palms, guides them up the ticking seconds. he  _pays attention_ to him with a tongue in his mouth once it can be drawn upward from his neck, though soon loses the give and he'd best suit himself a high collar tomorrow's most. naegi sucks and licks and kitten nips the gentle skin. lips coast his bobbing front. he orders the fingers that trickle at his shirt's buttons to mingle rather to his belt, sneaks nasty to cup him through the heat of his crotch. and that's how he spills the dirty dirty details in the most refined of ways, because really, his boyfriend's just fondled his cock and he couldn't be threatened to deny the touch.

squeeze and grope and fondle and strip. those expensive billion and one thread count briefs learn goodbye in a dozen languages with the lustful tug at which they're discarded down thighs sweating. a nail- single, neat, filed, demonic index nail -runs the front of that cock he dare not mention, teasing it hot and pointing with more effort than he'd call a comfort. _pointing-_ how dare he be such a prude as to not even say  _he's scorched in the steam of desire and the stiff of his dick?_ naegi drives away the thesaurus behind his eyes in the first stroke. stroke and stroke and togami nearly has one himself, messy and flushed, tendons all tightened and those fingers the wrench. ashamed is he closely to say he's made disarray of them within four strangling minutes, but it's the lips on his throat, sucking and licking and kitten all grown up to a tiger now and chomping hard, and the way the hand up his cock smooths precum up down, so slow and so sweet and oh- oh so fast and hot and if naegi hasn't earned the blue ribbon in hand job delivery then there's no point at all to it.

he tips his head, his regal gold star cephalic cavity, lips like sugar in their puffed confection. moans- and _there's_ some proper attention, proper gratitude for all that's been gifted. naegi has to force his drool back behind his teeth in the crave to take the whole thing hot right into his mouth, feels no righteousness for granting it when it'd be a mere one-two swipe of the tongue before it fills with cum. instead it's the mere one-two-three of his stroking hand, which he assumes converts equally to the set of licks, to the finish mark crossed. attention is written in his name moaned long, pants that chase in cigarette huffs and the caresses through his hair.

he doesn't miss a drop when those fingers are sucked clean, doesn't miss a moment of the affection that follows.

delicious. 


End file.
